Co-Writing At Night
by Pointy Objects
Summary: Helga is very picky about who she chooses as a co-writer. One-Shot.


Co-Writing At Night

One-Shot

* * *

"Are you still up?"

Helga cringed at the sleep voice echoing down the hallway. She meant to turn out the light in the dining room, but her laptop provided only so much illumination, and sometimes the strain on her eyes made them water. She squeaked an answer out, hoping her husband wouldn't hear, and stumble his way back to bed. She just needed a few more minutes…or hours, if her co-writer would allow her as much.

"Honey, you have to get some sleep-"

"I know, I know; I just…if I can get this chapter right, and figure out how to segway into chapter twenty-one…or maybe I should split it, and just pick up the next scene in-"

Arnold dropped his chin, and Helga knew she would have to pack it in for the night, sooner than she wanted, and hit the hay. His altruistic nature was almost entirely unaltered from their childhood, and for the past ten months or so, her health took precedence over everything.

"You. Have. To. Rest. Your body is still healing," he argued, taking a seat next to her.

"My body is _fine_ ," Helga fought the urge to let her eyes fall closed at the warm hand that rubbed circles on her back. She was tired; she could admit that to herself. She was awake more than she liked, her body, as strong as it proved itself a week prior was constantly changing, and she had little free time to relax her mind. When she felt a wave of inspiration come over her, she sat at her dining room table and got to work. Her co-writer was flexible, and the two wrote later into the night than she initially intended.

Through the waves of her unwashed hair, Helga felt her husband's breath on her neck and didn't fight the impulse that dropped her head to the opposite shoulder, exposing her skin to the relief and sensual comfort from her husband. She knew that if she was still adjusting, he was as well, but without months of restlessness to prepare him. While she lay awake at night worrying over her ever-changing body and mind, and the unsolicited advice of every human who crossed her path, he was awake worrying over her. And for the past week, she could only guess that his concerns doubled.

"It _is_ ," he drawled, and Helga rolled her eyes at the obvious implication. "But hers is still developing. And, as glad as I am that you've managed to keep her asleep for more than two hours, I think she would probably prefer her bassinet."

In response, Helga pouted and dropped her own chin to her chest. She'd positioned the sling so that the tiny head of her newborn daughter was easily accessible for frequent kisses, which she gave freely. Her daughter's hair was downy soft, and at only a few days old, her skin smelled clean and fresh, no matter the time of day. She took a long whiff, burying her nose in the velvety tufts of her baby's hair, knowing she would have to give her up to her husband soon. If she was selfish with little Stella, her husband was a downright _hog_.

"Fine," Helga conceded, leaning backward in her chair, allowing Arnold to slide their sleeping daughter out of her sling. She watched as he cradled her against his chest, rubbing Stella's back in much the same fashion that he rubbed hers, sending waves of comfort through the simple gesture. "I'll come to bed as soon as-"

"As soon as I finish swaddling her," Arnold bargained.

"No fair; you mastered swaddling days ago!"

"'Master' is a strong word…I'm just better at it than you."

"True…give me fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, yeah…" he answered skeptically, making his way down the darkened hallway. "Let me know how the ending of the chapter goes."

Helga shook her head and turned back to her laptop, typing faster without the space that Stella left between her and the table. Her fingers moved faster, and she told herself that it was due to her ability to lean into her writing, literally and figuratively.

In the back of her mind, however, she knew that part of her newfound speed was due to the absence of her daughter's soft breath on her chest and the fact that Arnold was enjoying it spurred her on. Closing her laptop and abandoning her perch, Helga checked her watch, knowing that in less than three hours, she and Stella would both be awake, and vowed to finish her chapter then.

* * *

A/N: Greetings, all! Many apologies for th hiatus; growing a baby will do that to you. If it makes you feel any better, my tiny co-writer definitely fell asleep as I wrote this, no longer wriggling inside my belly, now content to do so against my chest. Do I even need to say it? This was based on a true story.


End file.
